


yebisu: 黄昏のBay City

by slex (slexenskee)



Series: Overworld #3 [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Featuring, M/M, Mpreg, half-flerken Crookshanks, plus surprise Malfoy baby
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-18
Updated: 2019-12-18
Packaged: 2021-02-17 22:23:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21850672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slexenskee/pseuds/slex
Summary: Both Crookshanks and Voldemort were capable of great evils; he shuddered to think of the chaos they could reign if they combined their forces.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Voldemort, Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Series: Overworld #3 [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1574209
Comments: 12
Kudos: 180





	yebisu: 黄昏のBay City

**Author's Note:**

> Happy holidays y'all! 🎁

//

“No.” Harry said. 

Hermione gave him sad eyes.  _ “Harry.” _

“Absolutely not.” Harry remained steadfast in his disapproval. 

Realizing they were at a stalemate, Hermione said nothing. She just stared at him with her big, crestfallen eyes, expression borderline pathetic. Harry’s brow twitched. He crossed his arms. She blinked. 

_ Damn it.  _ Those big brown doe eyes were always his downfall and she  _ knew it. _

When he couldn’t bear the silence any longer, he let out a frustrated huff. “What about Ron?”

Hermione sniffed. “Ron and I are not on speaking terms.”

He rubbed his temples. “Ginny?”

“She travels too much.”

“Fred and George?” He threw out. 

“Would  _ you  _ give either of those two a cat?”

Harry conceded her point. 

“Bill and Fleur?” 

Hermione gave a disdainful scowl. “Fleur doesn’t ‘like’ cats.” She said, rolling her eyes. 

“Why don’t you just leave him at the Burrow?” 

She gave him an imploring look.

Yes, alright, perhaps the Weasley’s might not be the best idea. He was sure Molly and Arthur would have no issue with taking in Crookshanks for an undisclosed amount of time; he was an outdoor cat who despised most human company anyway, and he was an excellent deterrent for all rodents and even small gnomes. But he supposed Hermione might not want to rely too much on Ron’s family… currently. 

“What about your parents?” It was a stretch, what with them being in Midgar and all, but Crookshanks was a  _ cat,  _ not a manticore, and it wasn’t like Hermione would have to worry overly much about customs issues. 

She shook her head. “They’ve just bought a summer home in Australia; they’d have to find a place to board him for half the year.” 

Well, when she put it like that…

She clapped her hands in front of her face. “ _ Please,  _ please. Help me, Harry Potter! You’re my only hope!”

He scoffed. “Don’t think pulling a Princess Leia is going to endear me to you.” 

She pouted. 

At her feet, Crookshanks looked up at him with his vaguely evil yellow eyes. He looked positively smug, as if he already knew what Harry would say. Harry glared down at him. The cat flicked his tail with all the pretentiousness of a Malfoy, and then  _ turned his nose up  _ at Harry and began to clean his paws. 

He scowled deeply. “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, fuzzball.”

Hermione gave a gasp of delight, clearly recognizing yet another iconic line from their favorite movie franchise. “So you’ll take him?”

Harry sighed, defeated. “I make no guarantees he’ll live to see you move into an apartment that actually takes pets; Nagini doesn’t exactly get along with other animals.” 

Hermione threw her arms around him. “Ha! I knew you weren’t just a no-good, scruffy-looking nerfherder!”

“Who are you calling scruffy-looking?” He said, attempting annoyance, despite his smile of amusement. “And I really wasn’t kidding about Nagini. She’s very territorial.” 

Hermione just waved his concerns off. “That’s fine, he can handle himself! I promise he won’t be a problem!” 

Harry wasn’t entirely convinced. Nagini could be exceptionally vindictive. All the same, beyond just the snake, there was the snake’s  _ owner  _ to consider. 

“I still have to bring this up with Tom.” Harry warned. “And I definitely can’t make any promises on that front.”

Hermione pursed her lips, looking reluctant but understanding as she pulled away. “Yes… I suppose… but, well… he doesn’t really  _ have  _ to know, right? There’s a lot of land.” 

Harry gave her an unimpressed look. 

She chuckled nervously. “Right. Yes, well. Let me know how it goes.”

//

“No.”

_ “Tom.” _

“Absolutely not.”

“It’s just a cat.” Harry insisted, wondering when the hell he became that mangy bastard’s advocate. 

Crookshanks had never been overly fond of him, but they’d had a begrudging truce ever since the half-kneazle had captured Pettigrew. All the same, Harry’s time at Ms. Figg’s house had made him distasteful of all felines, and Crookshanks was equally as distasteful of all human males that came into close proximity of his master, so the feeling was mutual.

“Yes, exactly, it’s just a cat.” Tom agreed. “So why not just throw it out into the forest to have it fend for itself?”

“Crookshanks will probably just do that on his own anyway! He just, you know, needs somewhere to go when it rains and stuff like that.” 

Tom didn’t even look up from his paperwork. “The cat is not staying.”

Harry breathed in sharply through his nose, refusing to get into an argument over  _ Crookshanks  _ of all things. “But why not? It’s not as if he’ll be any trouble. You’ll never even  _ see  _ him, I assure you, he hates most of mankind excluding Hermione. And anyway, weren’t you just complaining about how Nagini was being too lazy and wasn’t culling the mice population properly? Well, with Crookshanks around you’ll never have to worry about it again!”

Tom’s quill paused over the signature line of the document he was signing. A small speck of ink dripped onto the parchment. 

A look of understanding dawned in Harry’s eyes. 

“ _ Oh,  _ so that’s what it is.” He crossed his arms, smirking. “You’re just afraid of telling Nagini.”

“Don’t be daft, of course not.” He denied vehemently, signing his name with a flourish and perhaps a bit more force than necessary. 

Harry just stared at him, unimpressed. 

The Dark Lord ignored him, reaching for another stack in what was a seemingly endless pile of paperwork. Harry sure didn’t envy his position as Supreme Chancellor, but he also had zero sympathy for the man.  _ He  _ was the one that wanted to rule the world. Harry could have told him what a boring and stressful job that would be. 

Harry gave it a few more moments, before stuffing his hands into his pockets. “Well, if that’s really all it is, I’ll just talk to her myself.”

_ “Do not.”  _ Came the immediate, heated response. 

Harry’s smirk only grew wider. 

//

Nagini, as it turned out, was so infuriated with her master she started leaving dead mice by the pillow on his side of the bed, and had holed herself up in Ceph’s room, ignoring every and all attempts at forgiveness on Tom’s part. Harry wasn’t surprised in the least. Nagini was a vain and petty little shite on the best of days, so frankly, he’d expected much worse. 

True to form though, Crookshanks was more than capable of taking care of himself. 

First of all, Tom’s prior remark on Nagini’s laziness wasn’t off the mark at all. Ever since they’d moved permanently into the Wiltshire mansion she’d become even lazier than she had before. At least when Voldemort was residing within Riddle Manor she had to fend for herself in a lot of respects, and got some good exercise. But her time at Malfoy Manor certainly spoiled her, with her pick of an infinite amount of peacocks, wild game, the occasional prisoner and a waitstaff of house elves at her beck and call. She was fat and lazy and hadn’t had to catch her own meal in years. 

And second of all, Crookshanks was no slouch when it came to fighting with his claws. 

In the aftermath of their one run in Crookshanks had walked away with a tuft of mangy fur missing, and Nagini had retreated angrily to the space beneath Ceph’s bed with an angry slash mark on her forehead. For the vain and narcissistic snake obsessed with her own beauty that must have been quite the blow to her pride. 

Harry hadn’t seen him since, and he considered this a good sign. Hopefully, weather permitting, Crookshanks would spend most of his time roaming the forest behind their house, and they’d never see hide nor tail of the creature for the majority of the year. Or  _ years _ , even. After all, Hermione didn’t exactly have a timeline of when she’d be moving back to this planet. 

“Meow meow~ meow meow~” Saiph babbled, tugging Harry along by the hand. “Where is meow meow?”

In addition to dealing a blow to Nagini’s pride, culling the local mice population, and driving Tom up the wall, Crookshanks also had the added bonus of entertaining Saiph  _ endlessly.  _

The toddler had seen the half-kneazle all of once, and it was love at first sight. 

“I dunno buddy.” Harry replied gamely, allowing Saiph to drag him around the lawns at his slow, toddling pace. “Let’s look for him again today, okay?”

There was apparently something impossibly alluring to the thrall of the fluffy creature that Saiph couldn’t stay away from. They’d spent nearly every day this past week wandering around in search of the elusive cat. In theory there were at least three dozen other things Harry would rather do with his rare time off, but in practice he found it rather appealing. Just him and Saiph, exploring the wilderness like adventurers in search of treasure. When they were hungry, Harry would call Dobby to bring them food for a picnic. When Saiph wanted a nap, they would ‘set up camp’ with all of his stuffed toys and doze off in the sunshine. 

Sometimes the twins would even join them, more interested in running around outside than the endless search for a cat neither of them had even seen. Although that wasn't always entirely a good thing.

“Does Crookshanks even exist?” Aster asked, seriously, from where she trotted to his left. 

By her side, her twin shrugged. “Lack of evidence suggests no.” He said, without even looking up from his gameboy.

Harry despaired for these two sometimes. He was fairly sure they were actually infamous inter-galactic thieves escaped from the Kyln that somehow managed to accidentally reincarnate themselves into a pair of twins. At least, that was his current running theory. The other option was that this level of precociousness came  _ entirely  _ from Tom, and frankly, Harry preferred the outlandish criminal reincarnation theory. At least that meant he had hope for Saiph and any other siblings to maybe not turn out to be pretentious assehole pre-teens. 

“No meow meow?” Saiph cried, with dismay.

Oh great. He shot his eldest a deeply aggrieved look. “Come on, you  _ know  _ he can understand you guys.”

Cepheus shrugged again, and being the unrepentant little shit he was, added, “I’m just saying, we’ve looked for days and haven’t even seen evidence of a cat at all. In all likelihood, he was probably eaten by—

“Okay, that’s enough.” Harry cut him off, rolling his eyes. 

His eldest son blinked up at him. “There  _ are  _ acromantulas in here, you know. They could eat a cat of his size easily.” His eyes lit up. “Say, could we go in there and look for the remains?” 

Saiph’s eyes were growing wide. Harry’s brow twitched as he scrambled to try to fix this situation. 

Ceph’s twin gave a laborious yawn, tugging at his sleeve. “Come on Ceph, aren’t you bored? Let’s go write a letter to Helia. Mum, is it true she and Aunt Hermione moved to Xandar?”

This was enough to get Ceph to drop both his current topic of conversation  _ and _ his gameboy. “Xandar?” he said, excitedly, as he rushed to pick up his fallen console. “Really?"

“Yes, it’s true.” Harry replied, squinting at her. He was joking about the infamous galactic phantom thieves thing, but then his daughter would pull things like this that seriously made him wonder. Sometimes, she could be just a little  _ too  _ tactful. “I’m sure they’ve arrived and settled now. You guys should definitely write her a letter— I’m sure she’d like that. She’s probably feeling lonely in a new place by herself.”

“You can ask her a bunch of questions about Xandar!” Aster enthused, effectively capturing all of Ceph’s attention. 

Harry sighed in relief as the two wandered away, discussing what kind of schooling they might have on Xandar. Honestly, parenting seemed like a never-ending game of avoiding total self-destructive meltdowns using creative methods of distraction. One of these days, he was going to run out of distractions. 

Saiph tugged at his sleeve. “Meow-meow no more?”

Harry sighed, crouching down to the boy’s height. “That’s not true, your older brother’s just being mean. Crookshanks is perfectly fine. He’s a very clever kitty.”

Saiph nodded, sticking his thumb in his mouth. “See meow meow now?”

Harry gave him a lopsided smile. “Who knows, maybe today’s the day!” 

//

So  _ of course  _ the damned feline showed up out of the blue, in the worst way possible, weeks after they’d given up searching for him.

Harry had been awoken that morning by an unholy shriek, bolting out of bed and down the hall to find Aster chasing a streak of ginger around a corner. Apparently Crookshanks had decided today was the day he’d sneak into the house (somehow, despite the fact they didn’t leave any doors open for him, and his food and water were in the shed that housed the kindling clear across the property) and had decided to use Aster’s chair as his nest. Harry was pretty sure it wasn't the surprise cat in her bedroom that enraged her, but the fact that Crookshanks had dragged mud, fur, and the questionable bloody remains of some kind of feathered creature through her room and then hauled his filthy catch onto the chair that the dress Aster was wearing to Domonique’s birthday party was draped upon. Even if she did like cats, it was a colossal mess, his daughter was inconsolable, and the cat and the girl had left a disaster to be cleaned across the whole mansion with their epic chase scene this morning. 

Worst of all was Tom’s smug, wholly satisfied expression of petty revenge as Aster sobbed in his arms. She wailed that the cat  _ absolutely must go,  _ and her father just patted her hair and consoled her with a shopping trip to buy  _ three  _ new dresses to make up for it. Harry could only grit his teeth until he had a splitting headache and refuse to rise to the man’s bait. Tom, shopping? He’d rather eat his own hand then voluntarily shop for girl’s clothing, and yet he’d happily bite the bullet just to rub it in Harry’s face and prove his point. 

Still, Harry knew he had the upper-hand, if he just waited it out. 

Aster was only upset because of the mess and the ruined party dress. Little did Tom know, but she actually  _ adored  _ small fluffy creatures of all kinds. The Dark Lord had never had to deal with releasing all of her stupid pygmy puffs she’d accumulate over her summer holidays at the Burrow, because he refused to go to the Burrow on general principle, so he’d never seen her total adoration in person. 

All Harry had to do was track that godforsaken fleabag and give it a good scrubbing, and they’d be the best of friends. 

In the meantime, he’d let Tom consider himself victorious. He’d voluntarily make himself do everything he hates (console crying small children, shop with said small children, shop for  _ sparkly, pink princess dresses  _ with said small children) because he thought he’d won, and Harry would just quietly laugh at him and hatch his plan.

Harry waited until Tom obligingly took Aster and Ceph downtown, and Saiph was taking his afternoon nap to start his hunt.

He’d recruited all the house elves in his hunt for the escaped cat, but he also had a secret weapon of his own;  _ Fancy Feast Tuna Paté.  _

According to Hermione, Crookshanks went _ nuts  _ for muggle cat food, of the cheapest and unhealthiest kind. 

So this was why Harry was wandering down their front drive, opened can of foul-smelling cat food in hand, making ridiculous  _ psst psst psst  _ sounds when Draco Malfoy found him.

“Potter?” 

Harry turned around to see Malfoy standing on their front staircase, looking at him as if he’d gone round the bend. In his defense, Harry probably looked like a loon; barefoot, still in his dressing robe, hair sticking up like he'd spent the morning chasing after his hysterical daughter and a filthy feline, making weird noises and holding a tin can high in the air.

“What the hell are you doing?” 

Harry didn’t even bother explaining. “I could ask you the same question, Malfoy.”

They were on better terms than they had been in school, but Harry would hardly call them friends. Acquaintances was even a stretch. Civil was probably the word he was looking for. They could hold awkward small talk at state functions for about half an hour at most; better than most of the people Harry had to talk to at those kinds of events, but nothing impressive. 

And anyway, whatever strange truce they’d brokered had gone strained ever since he and Hermione had started— and then subsequently and abruptly stopped— their… well, whatever the fuck it was they had going on. Harry didn't care, frankly, and it was hardly his business. 

Malfoy just narrowed his eyes. He looked like he’d swallowed a box of doxy eggs— or, alternatively, like he was being made to play nice with Harry Potter of all people, because he was a Slytherin with self-preservation and wasn’t stupid enough to insult the Dark Lord’s spouse. 

“I’m looking for the Dark Lord.” He said, stiffly. 

“Ah.” Replied Harry. 

Malfoy shifted his feet uneasily. Harry ignored him, and passed the circle drive and down the lawn. Malfoy remained at the top stair of the entryway for all of a minute, before he was bolting down after him.

“Potter!” He shouted, after he’d passed the fountain in the middle of the circle.

“Yes?” Harry put the can of  _ Fancy Feast  _ down, and reached for another one in his pocket. 

“Well? Are you going to tell me where he is?” Demanded Malfoy, slightly out of breath by the time he caught up to Harry.

“He’s your Master,” Harry returned, with amusement, “shouldn’t you know where he is?”

Malfoy’s face scrunched up again, like he wanted nothing more to berate Harry like he’d done ever since he’d met the Gryffindor, but was somehow managing to refrain. “I. Don’t. Know. Where. He. Is.” Malfoy replied, through gritted teeth. “Why do you think I’m asking you?” 

“Hmm. Well, he’s not here right now. Can’t help you, sorry.”

Malfoy’s brow twitched wildly. “Potter, this message is time-sensitive. I have it on good authority you  _ always  _ know where he is—

Harry blinked at him owlishly. “Who told you that?” He was actually quite curious to know. It’s not the sort of thing he’d ever tell a Death Eater, so it had to have been one of Harry’s friends. The obvious answer, he supposed, was Hermione. But she’d made it sound as if they didn’t… talk much, whenever they were together. 

“Nevermind that, Potter. Could you please just— 

Harry took the opportunity to peel back the tin cover of the can with a loud and satisfying  _ shlick.  _ Like clockwork, he could hear the sound of a small bell, jingling erratically as it neared them with furious speed. 

_ “Oh Merlin’s balls get it off of me!!”  _

Harry grinned widely as Crookshanks took a flying leap at the blonde by his side with all the ferocity of an angry mating Hippogriff. Malfoy raised holy hell as he tried to get the massive ball of fur off of him, but it was to no avail. By the time Crookshanks and his claws were done with the blonde, his robes had angry shear marks down the sides, and one of his sleeves had been torn near to shreds. His left cheek bore three angry scratch marks down the side, and there appeared to be matching sets all over his chest where Crookshanks had landed some good hits. 

Harry couldn’t have been prouder. 

He gave the cretin a fond pat on the head, before leaving both cans of cat food on the ground for him to feast upon with relish. In return, Crookshanks blinked at him slowly, and even curled his tail against Harry’s leg— briefly, but it spoke volumes. Harry and Crookshanks had a truce once again amidst a shared common goal; make Draco Malfoy’s life as miserable as possible. 

“Sorry about that,” Harry said cheerfully, as Malfoy struggled to get his wand out of his pocket and point it at the cat in retaliation. Just as he was about to cast a hex, Harry added; “Crookshanks is a new addition to the family, and he’s still a bit anxious with his new home. The kids just  _ adore  _ him, Saiph especially, and I think even Voldemort is warming up to him a little bit!”

Malfoy’s face went pale at the mention of Voldemort, and beyond that, his heirs. The blonde Death Eater was well aware that even accidentally making one of those damn children cry was a one-way ticket to the dungeons. And obviously hexing their new pet would be a surefire way to do it. 

“It’s… fine. I’m sure it’s not the damn fleabags fault.” Malfoy managed to get out, even as his face began to turn a bit purple.

Harry actually found himself feeling a bit bad for his former classmate, so he offered up this piece of advice, “The Dark Lord doesn’t want to be disturbed right now,” and he definitely doesn’t want his followers knowing he’s off shopping for princess dresses in muggle London, “so either give your message to me or your father.”

Malfoy eyed him warily. He appeared to be weighing whether it was worth it to hold on to this letter out of some misplaced sense of pride, or cut his losses and get the hell out of here before Crookshanks could do more lasting damage to him. In the end, his Slytherin self-preservation one out, and he handed Harry a sealed envelope.

“ _ Do not  _ open it.” The blonde said, severely. 

Harry just nodded along. If it really pertained to him, Tom would tell him anyway. 

He stuffed the letter in his pocket. When he looked down, Crookshanks had already scarfed down one of his cans and had voraciously moved on to the next. He vanished the empty one, and then knelt down beside the ginger half-kneazle. Crookshanks actually glanced up at him, and gave him a small and plaintive ‘meow’ of thanks amidst his feasting. Harry was actually quite charmed. Was Crookshanks actually growing on him?

Above him, Malfoy cleared his throat. 

Harry looked up, surprised to see him still standing there at all. He’d delivered his message. Shouldn’t he be running out of here with his tail between his legs? 

But Malfoy wasn’t looking at him at all. Actually, his gaze was entirely fixated on his assailant. 

“Is she— uh, why is it… I mean, that is to say… how did he— ” 

Harry blinked at him, bored. 

Malfoy’s lips thinned into a fine line. He coughed into his hand, and then said, all at once,  _ “Where did she go?” _

“Excuse me?” Harry propped his chin on his hand, staring up at him with a raised brow.

A low flush was rising up Malfoy’s neck. “She… why is her cat here?”

“Is it really any of your business?” Harry couldn’t help but rub salt in the wound. Maybe it was petty revenge for all those years of having to deal with Malfoy in school, but Harry didn’t  _ care.  _ Revenge always tasted so sweet.

That being said, Harry wasn’t  _ entirely  _ a vindictive arsehole capable of carrying grudges. At least, not all the time. And Malfoy was currently doing an impressive hangdog expression that Harry would have laughed at any other time. 

“Potter.” He said.

Harry sighed, standing up. Man, he really was such a pushover. “She’s moving.” 

“She’s moving?” Draco repeated, eyes wide. He all but pounced on Harry, grabbing him by the shoulders. Crookshanks gave a low, warning growl at their feet, but Malfoy ignored him. “Where is she moving to?”

Oh.  _ Oh no.  _

_ Please tell me this isn’t happening to me.  _ Harry thought, with despair. The  _ last  _ thing he wanted to do today was get into Draco Malfoy’s baby mama drama. 

“To Xandar.” 

Malfoy’s hands dropped from his shoulders, hanging limp at his sides. 

“She got a position as junior legislator in the galactic senate.” Harry had no idea why he was even bother to tell him this. “It was a great opportunity. But, she couldn’t lug Crookshanks halfway across the galaxy, so he’s staying with us for now.”

Malfoy was silent for a long time. He was studiously eying the ground. “...And the girl?”

Harry rolled his eyes, hard. God, the drama between these two was borderline unbearable. “ _ Her daughter  _ went with her, obviously.” 

“Oh.” Said Malfoy. 

“Right.” Said Harry. 

//

“Awwh, Mr. Crookshanks, look how cute you are now!” Aster cried with delight, as she smooshed the cat’s face next to her own, rubbing their cheeks together.

Crookshanks, on his absolute best behavior, did not even so much as flinch. He merely stared across the room at Harry with blazing, unholy eyes. Harry only shrugged in response. If Crookshanks wanted to stay here, he was going to have to rouse up some goodwill with the kids. Starting with the one he’d already pissed off. 

Everything was clearly forgiven, judging by Aster’s enthusiasm. 

Harry had lured the beast into the bath with more tuna paté, and afterwards had given him the brushing and scrubbing of his life. Mats had to be sheared off, and his coat needed a good thorough conditioning, but afterwards he was almost a new cat. Shiny and soft with long, fluffy ginger hair, Crookshanks was cuter than any toy in Aster’s arsenal. With the addition of his new bowtie, he was positively adorable. Too adorable for Aster to stay away from. 

This was why she was currently cuddling (read: choking) the life out of him as she danced around her room in her new dress. With her little tiara, she was the princess dancing with her dapper, fluffy prince charming. 

Next to him, Tom was near smoldering in fury. Harry couldn’t have planned it better. 

“Daddy, can we please keep him?” Aster whined, half muffled by Crookshanks fur as she rubbed her face in the soft, downy fur of his chest. Crookshanks was clearly hamming it up for the audience, because he even headbutted her gently on the forehead. She giggled in glee, pressing their noses together. 

The Dark Lord looked so positively annoyed, Harry was sure he’d accidentally shatter all the windows in the room with his pent-up frustration. 

Harry was actually morbidly curious to see how this would turn out. 

Tom had a thousand and one reasons to punt that stupid furball out the window and feed him to the wolves. There was no lost love between he and the cat. In fact, Harry was rather sure that Tom  _ loathed  _ the cat. And Tom had absolutely no compunctions in systematically and cruelly destroying the things he hated. However, he was also absolutely incapable of ever saying ‘no’ to his daughter, no matter what ridiculous, outrageous, or even totally arbitrary request she had of him. 

“He’s  _ your  _ responsibility.” Tom said, severely, and Harry wasn’t entirely sure if he was talking to him or Asterope. “If he tracks mud into the house,  _ you  _ are the one who will clean it up. Seeing to his basic needs is your obligation. He is not a toy. You will have to take care of him accordingly.”

Aster nodded, and even gave him a salute. “Scout’s honor!” 

Voldemort was looking like he was regretting every one of his life choices. 

Harry rolled his eyes, letting out an exasperated sigh. 

He’d half been hoping Tom would finally manage to say no to their daughter for once, but it appeared it was a lost cause. Well, he supposed, better to spoil her rotten then neglect or ignore her. 

“Well, come on then kid. We have a birthday party to get to, remember?”

Aster blinked at him. “Can we bring Crookshanks?”

Harry thought about it, then shrugged. “Sure, why not?” It wasn’t as if she and her cousins had never met the half-kneazle before. “Don’t forget to bring the gifts!”

Aster shoved Crookshanks into Harry’s arms as she ran around the room trying to find where she’d stuffed her cousin’s presents. Crookshanks looked up at Harry with a baleful, resigned glance, clearly aware of what was in store for him at a birthday party with two dozen small children. Still, the cat had done well, so Harry gave him a few quick pats and reminded himself to buy more muggle cat food. 

He glanced up at Tom, who was scowling down at the feline in his arms. 

He raised a brow. “Are you sure you don’t want to come?”

The Dark Lord gave him a look that said,  _ I would rather die. _

Coming from this particular Dark Lord, that meant a lot.

Harry just laughed. “Yeah, didn’t think so. We should be back by sundown at the latest.”

“Would it be possible to somehow, accidentally, ‘lose’ the cat while you’re over there?” Voldemort suggested, mildly. 

Harry laughed in his face. “Not a chance. Crookshanks is going to be a valued part of the family, aren’t you, Crooks?” 

Crookshanks gave a  _ mrow  _ in response. 

As far as Harry was concerned, he’d consider this operation a resounding success. Crookshanks was definitely here to stay. 

//

As it turned out, a few months later would find Harry regretting his choices. 

“How’s Crookshanks doing? He hasn’t been eaten yet, has he?” Hermione asked worriedly, the next time they facetime. 

Harry laughed. Loudly.

It was clear Hermione hadn’t figured out the secret to Crookshank’s wily intelligence and surprising offensive capabilities. Even for a half-kneazle, he was a little  _ too  _ smart and a little  _ too  _ competent. Not to mention, Harry had noticed he had an uncanny ability to transport himself, near instantaneously, wherever he wanted. He’d used that infuriating trick one too many times to get the drop on Harry.  _ So _ many things made sense now.

“Why are you laughing?” Hermione demanded, eyes widening. “Wait. He didn’t get eaten, did he?”

“Hermione, let me assure you— there is nothing on planet earth that could possibly harm that dirty old fleabag.” Harry replied, with mirth. 

A half-flerken like Crookshanks would be impossible to kill by normal standards. Most deep space creatures would steer clear of him on sight, so the idea of Nagini even managing a scratch on him was laughable. Not when he could easily swallow her whole and toss her into a pocket dimension.

“Don’t call him that!” She reprimanded, but it was completely without heat. She eyed him closely. “You seem much more amenable to him than you did last we spoke.”

Harry just shrugged inelegantly, collapsing back onto the lounge chair. “He has his uses.” 

She was still watching him closely. “Is that so?”

“Well, he does wonders for the mice population. And he makes for a surprisingly good guard… cat. And Sai just  _ loves  _ him, hardly lets go of him whenever he gets the chance to grab him.”

Harry casually neglected to mention the time space pirates had gotten a little too close to their property and Crookshanks had  _ ate them whole.  _ Best to let her live in ignorance of that particular fact. 

Hermione looked shocked. “Crookshanks actually  _ lets  _ him near enough for that?”

“Crookshanks is a changed man these days,” Harry said gallantly, smirking. “Don’t expect to be getting him back in the same shape you left him.”

“Well, I’m glad he’s getting on with everyone over there.” Hermione mused. “How’s everything with you?”

Harry looked around briefly at the chaos that was Sai’s playroom. The kid had finally worn himself out after he’d knocked over at least a dozen block castles Harry had gamely assembled for him. He’d spent a half hour valiantly fighting off drowsiness as they watched silly cartoons on his tablet, before eventually losing his battle with sleep. Harry had quickly commandeered the thing before he could wake up and demand more screen time. 

“Oh, you know me, living my best life.” He replied, dryly, gesturing to his wild hair, the drying paint on his face, and half of Sai’s breakfast that had found its way onto his shirt. 

“Better there than being here in the middle of nowhere Vanaheim breaking out into happy tears whenever you get enough of a signal to access the internet at large.” Hermione refuted, snorting. 

“You’re the one who wanted to do this.” Harry pointed out, unmoved. Also, he’s been to Vanaheim. It’s really not that bad. “Also, are you coming back next year to take the ambassador position?” 

“I’m thinking about it.” Hermione’s mouth twisted into a grimace. 

At first, Harry didn’t understand. The Hermione he knew would  _ leap  _ at the chance to become official ambassador. 

Then it occurred to him that the ambassador would, of course, need to reside in Midgard. A place not nearly as far and inaccessible as Xandar. 

Harry stared at her contemplatively. “Ah. Malfoy contacted you.”

“I would have preferred he didn’t.” Hermione replied, crisply, eyes narrowing at Harry with surefire intensity. 

“Hey, he asked!” Harry threw his hands up in defense. “You didn’t say not to tell him!”

“Yes, but, obviously if I had wanted him to know I would have said something myself.” Hermione sighed deeply, rubbing her temples.

Harry made a noise of commiseration. “The talk didn’t go well?”

“What talk?” Hermione snorted. “He doesn’t know how to use the internet; he sent me a letter.”

“Did you reply?”

“I threw it into a flaming trash dump on Sakaar.” 

_ “Lovely.” _

Hermione shrugged, unrepentant. “I really don’t care what he has to say. It’s about six years too late anyway.”

Harry had zero intention of getting himself involved in this particular mess, so he cut the conversation short after that. It was nice to know Hermione was doing well, even if she seemed to be (slightly) running away from her own problems. At any rate, she could have chosen a great deal worse for herself, what with running off to actually do something productive and career-forward like joining the galactic senate. Harry would  _ like  _ to have his best friend back on his home planet and all, but he’s happy for her. 

A few minutes later the door opened as Harry was staring blankly up at the ceiling. He didn’t have to look over to know who it was. 

“You might have to convince Hermione to take the ambassador job, if you actually want it to be filled by someone competent.” 

“Convince?” The Dark Lord snorted. “Granger would be honored to fill the post.”

At this, Harry finally looked over, with his signature deadpan gaze. 

The man seemed to concede his point. He gestured to the feline in his arms. “If all else fails, I will use this foul cretin as collateral.”

Harry made a great effort to keep the amusement off of his face as the Dark Lord walked towards him, cat and all. No wonder Nagini was so jealous. Crookshanks looked quite satisfied as he lay boneless in the man’s arms, tail flicking happily every once and a while when Tom scratched at his chin. Harry had half a mind to mention to his husband just what, exactly, the creature he was holding in his arms was capable of, but decided against it. The half-flerken had gone this long in his life living under the radar; Harry saw no reason to upturn all of the creature’s hard work. 

“You love Crookshanks, you would never.” Harry cooed, leaning up to swipe the ginger cat out of his arms. Hilariously, Tom appeared reluctant to let him go. 

“Absolutely not.” The man replied, looking deeply disturbed. “The creature and I have merely entered into an alliance. He has held up his end of the bargain; I see no reason not to hold up mine.”

Harry just raised a brow. He looked down at the cat, two slits of devilish yellow staring back at him. He wondered what sort of ‘alliance’ they could have entered into; then he wondered if he really wanted to know. Maybe he was better off not knowing. Both Crookshanks and Voldemort were capable of great evils; he shuddered to think of the chaos they could reign if they combined their forces. Great Merlin, Tom didn’t even  _ know  _ half of the things they could be capable of together. Harry was suddenly relieved for his own foresight; Crookshanks’ half-flerken status would remain a secret he would take to his grave at this rate. 

“Well, at least you two are getting along now, I suppose.” Harry replied, mildly. 

Crookshanks blinked up at him, sitting on his haunches. And then, without fanfare, leapt back into Voldemort’s arms. Harry stared in stunned disbelief. Then it turned to outrage. 

“Hey, you mangy furball, how can you choose him over me?” Harry demanded, scowling. Crookshanks just flicked his tail at him, getting comfortable in the Dark Lord’s grip. “I’m the one who feeds you your damn tuna paté!”

Voldemort looked beyond smug, gently scratching behind Crookshanks ears. “It’s not a  _ competition,  _ Harry.”

False. 

It is absolutely a competition. A competition Harry was supposed to be winning!

He glared into those evil, beady yellow eyes, and saw an utterly unrepentant traitor within. 

Then Harry paused, and with growing horror took stock of what was going on before him.

There stood the Dark Lord in all his dark and evil glory, carrying an equally dark and evil furry creature in his arms. He continued to pet Crookshanks, raising a brow at Harry’s wide-eyed look. 

“What?” 

Harry collapsed back onto the sofa. “It’s nothing.”

Good god, he’s officially married a Bond villain, and he has no one to blame but himself for making this happen. 

//  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
